Emily blinked groggily as the bunker came into focus. It was unassuming enough, and she wondered what a bunker belonging to two young bachelors would even look like. Probably gross as hell, she thought sourly, shifting onto her butt to test out the feeling. It wasn't all that sore, but her pride certainly still was. She caught Dean's gaze in the rearview mirror and scowled at him, before reaching out to open the car door and get out. She waited for the boys to join, not looking either in the eye, the scowl still firmly in place on her face as she tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for Dean to open the trunk so she could grab out her duffle bag and backpack. She hadn't had a lot of time to pack, she'd mostly just shoved any clothing she could into the duffle along with some sentimental items and all the money Jack Parker had accumulated throughout the years. She was glad she'd remembered her toiletries, as she was fairly certain that what she'd find in their shower here would be a bar of dove soap and an old razor. Ugh a shower, I'd kill for a fucking shower. Her tapping became even more intense, Dean and Sam were certainly taking their time getting out of the car, and once they finally had, they'd moseyed around looking at the tires and talking back and forth about...shit, about basically nothing.
"Do you mind?" Spanking be damned, if Emily didn't see the inside of a bathroom in the next five minutes, she was going to annihilate them both where they stood. Dean looked up from his spot crouched by the front tire, and he eyed her carefully, the stony expression in his face unmoved. "Please?" She forced her voice to a softer octave, pouting out her lower lip and adopting a pose that was one of her greatest allies when it came to charming those around her. "I just really need a shower. And to sleep." Dean's expression didn't change, and he shot a dark look to Sam as if to say do you believe this chick? which unfortunately did nothing but bubble that familiar anger into her stomach again.
"We'll be good and ready in a minute, sweetheart," Dean drawled out and Sam snorted, knowing that his brother was doing it purposefully. He had a knack for pissing people off.
"You'll be good and ready right now, or I'm gonna punch a hole into this stupid piece of shit," Emily dropped the pose as she spoke, her hands finding her hips, unable to stop the sentence from leaving her mouth. What was it with these guys? Emily had never felt so put off or defensive by anyone in her life, she was normally calm! Quiet. Collected. Calculating. Where was this bitch coming from? Instantly she regretted the words as Dean straightened to take a step towards her, and she was positive they were about to relive the scene from earlier which made Emily quickly step to the other side of the car near where Sam stood, and Dean's face clouded even more darkly as they squared off.
"You want to repeat that darlin'?"
She had opened her mouth to retort but didn't get the chance. Not even a half second had passed when there was a bright glow and a man suddenly appeared in front of all of them. "Cas?" The glow disappeared and a smile graced Dean's mouth, replacing the frown that had been there only moments before. "Well how the hel-how the heck are you man?" He and Sam walked towards man, angel?, leaving a bewildered Emily by the car, watching the bizarre scene unfold.
The angel was beautiful, young, bright, and suddenly Sam realized why the glow around him looked so familiar, it was the same glow he saw when they'd laid eyes on the girl. Confusion crossed Sam's face and he had opened his mouth to speak, but Castiel had cut him off, his voice clipped and straight to the point. "I've come about the girl," he faced the brothers and then opened his hand to Emily, inviting her forward. "I am sorry about your father, child. Time is of the essence, Dean, Sam," he turned to each young man as he spoke, and Emily, still looking stunned, walked forward to fall in line with them, "you no doubt understand the seriousness of the situation? It was unexpected, but here we are. Bobby has contacted you, but God felt it important you hear this sooner rather than later. Like all humans, Emily still possesses the divine gift of free will, which makes this mission even more delicate. It is impetrative that Emily remain with you, in your care, for the duration of your time on earth. It was not meant to be this way, but God has decided to reward you both. Child," he turned to address Emily, and the awe grew as she studied his face, "you know what you are? You know why you are here. It is your story to tell, it is your gift to give these men. Forgive yourself for your father. You did not make his choices, you are not responsible for his death." Tears welled in her eyes at the words, no matter if she believed them or not, but she swiped them away, determined not to show anymore weakness that evening, "I see your heart. God sees your desire for revenge. You remain a free being, but you are implored to stay with these young men. They will train you, train you properly, the way your father was unable to. Then you shall have the revenge you seek."
Emily felt her stomach tighten again, the thought of being stuck with these barbarians was almost unbearable, but to argue with an angel seemed further more ridiculous so she kept her mouth shut. Sam was instead the one who spoke, "Cas, you want us to train her?" He sounded incredulous at the thought, Emily could've sworn she could hear the waft of disdain. "She lived with one of the greatest Hunter's alive, what would she learn from us?"
"She will learn. She was not trained, her father thought it unnecessary. You will take her on your hunts, you will teach her to defend herself, you will mold her, and in return, you shall be rewarded. While she is with you, you will be protected. I will say no more on this. God has spoken."
There was no time to argue, or ask questions, or even speak, as the next second the man was gone, the same burst of light that he'd arrived in effectively disappearing him from their gaze. There was a few moments of stunned silence, then both of the boys turned to Emily and started speaking at once, their words tripping over one another at an increasingly raised volume. What is he talking about? What does that mean? We'll be protected? Protected how? What? Well, come on, answer! Fucking angel never tells the whole story. She could barely keep up, so she did the only thing she could think to do in the moment and turned on her heel, walking away from them both back to the trunk of the car where her bags were. She slammed her hand on the top and the men jumped at the sound, falling silent as they stared at her. "Can I get my bags now? I'm tired. I smell. I don't have the mental capacity to fuck around with your interrogations right now. I'm not ready and I'm not talking about it. You heard him, free will and all." She managed to keep the mask of icy fury on her face, even with all the emotions rolling around in her stomach. She was a gift, a gift for them, as if she were some cheap commodity, some object to just give away. She knew what she was, she knew in her heart that she was being given protection from the creatures who'd hunted down her father just as much as she was giving them protection in return, but it didn't make her feel any better. It didn't make the anger subside.
The boys, wisely, didn't argue. Sam gave Dean a warning little stare, which Dean promptly rolled his eyes at, but he hadn't pushed it. He merely opened the trunk, slung Emily's duffle over his shoulder, and then stomped into the house. Emily grabbed her backpack and followed him, letting Sam close the trunk and bring up the rear. It seemed that the trio were all lost in their own thoughts regarding the angel's words and meaning, but none of them spoke more on it. Dean ushered them into the unassuming house, where Emily was greeted by a sight she hadn't prepared for. It was beautiful. Large, airy, open, filled with light and books. She had expected a lot of things, but this certainly wasn't one of them. Sam cleared his throat and continued to nudge her in, "come on, kid, we'll give you the tour." Kid. Emily almost snorted at the word, as if Sam wasn't just a few years older than she was. But she didn't. She obediently followed him around, listening as he showed her the kitchen and dining area, the living room where Dean had already flopped himself onto the nice long couch with a beer in hand, flipping the tv on contentedly, then Sam brought her to the library, explaining that it was where he did much of his research, and Emily just gaped at the room and all of it's musty books, low lamps, and many, many artifacts. There were a few tables and desks, perfect for the exact scene Sam was explaining, and Emily nodded in understanding. "This place has a lot of dangerous books, a lot of old spells, a lot of stuff we really don't want broken, okay? So if you need anything in here, just let me or Dean know and don't come in on your own."
Emily could see that Sam was the easier sibling, the kinder one, his eyes were gentle, and even with the size he was, he never seemed imposing the way Dean did. That would come in handy. She remained quiet as they continued the tour to the bedrooms, he pointed out where his room was and Dean's, then he took her to a room in the back corner, explaining that it was really a guest room for their friends who came to help on missions, but that it would be hers now. It had it's own bathroom, gloriously, and even had a tub. Emily gave a sigh of relief when she saw that and Sam couldn't help but chuckle at the sound. "Go ahead and unpack," he set down the duffle he'd taken from Dean when they started their tour, and leaned against the doorframe. "I'll hit the store tomorrow for supplies, so if there's anything you need, just let me know. Take your time. But, hey," he paused and gave her an easy-going grin, "when you're done with your shower, come back to the living room. We're gonna have some food, and Dean and I need to go over the rules with you."
Rules. That word made her rage, but instead of arguing, she pasted on the fake, dazzling smile she always seemed to wear nowadays and shrugged at him. "Okay, thanks Sam."
He left her then, closing her door behind him to give her privacy and it was then that Emily fully took in her surroundings. Opening her duffle, she began to pull out what she'd brought, taking quick inventory in her head. There was a nice white dresser in the room, and she was pleasantly surprised when she opened the drawers to find them not musty, but rather well maintained and clean. She put away her underwear and bras and socks, then moved onto her pajamas. She had managed to bring quite a bit of clothing, which she was grateful for in the moment, since it meant she wouldn't have to ask Sam to attempt to shop for her. She had leggings and jeans, shorts, and a plethora of assorted tee shirts and tank tops, some sweats, and a few cardigans. At the very bottom of it all, she paused, chewing on her lip in contemplation before reaching in and withdrawing a small, silver pistol. Her father's. She tested the weight of it in her hand, examining it from all angles before finally opening her underwear drawer and tucking it underneath all of the lacy scraps inside. Then she sighed, shoving the duffle bag under her bed and going to her backpack to get out her toiletries. She had travel size of most of them, so she made a note to ask Sam to grab her a bottle of shampoo and conditioner, and body wash. Hers was expensive, something she'd swiped while charming a nervous worker at Nordstrom's, but for the time being, she had a feeling she wouldn't have that much freedom. She placed her delicate perfume bottle and deodorant and makeup bag on the vanity of the sink, then unpacked her toothbrush and toothpaste, and a large, heavy oval wooden hairbrush into the small drawers under the sink. Satisfied with her work, Emily finally started the shower, pleased to see there was already a set of towels waiting for her. She shucked her shorts and panties in a heap on the floor, and paused turning to check the reflection of her ass in the mirror, but besides a small lingering spot of red on each thigh, there was virtually no evidence of the earlier spanking. Emily scowled at the thought again as she removed the rest of her clothing and stepped into the steaming water, gratefully letting it soak into her skin.
Emily took her time in the shower, scrubbing every inch of the last day's journey from her skin, unsure of even what time it was or if it was night anymore. They'd left the bar at ten, so it had to be very early in the morning, but honestly Emily hadn't bothered to look at her cell phone. No one would've called. No one knew who she was. She only had it to look up news and follow leads, and sometimes for directions when she was with her dad, but that...she pushed the thought aside as she finally got out of the hot water and turned the knob. She took her time applying her lotion and doing her skincare, then dressed in the comfiest, least revealing pajamas she had, which were a pair of simple cotton shorts and matching tee, brushed out her wet hair, and finally emerged. Truth be told, she half expected the brother's to be asleep by now, and a very large part of her hoped that they would, but of course there was no such luck as she made her way down the hall to the sound of their low voices coming from the open living area at the end. She lingered for a moment, trying to listen to what they were saying, but it was hard to make out so she finally gave up on eavesdropping and stepped into the room, clearing her throat to indicate she was there. The boys looked up, and Dean gave her a genuine smile, for the first time since they'd begun all of this, and gestured to a big, comfy looking easy chair across from himself and Sam. "Have a seat, sweetheart."
Emily did as she was told for once, making a mental note to ask him to cut back on the "sweetheart" crap since she was certainly not that and it made her feel about 10 years old, but Sam was still wearing a pretty serious expression, so she saved it. Folding her lithe body into the chair, Emily swallowed a yawn as she surveyed the two men and waited for them to start, and it didn't take much prompting for Dean to launch into his speech, which seemed a little too rehearsed for her liking. "So, we need to go over some things. Since it appears you will be here for the time being, there are a lot of things that Sam and I don't want to have to keep repeating to you." She resisted rolling her eyes, had Dean ever spoken to a woman before in his life that wasn't a child? "Sam tells me you were warned about the library. Good. There's a gym too, where we workout and train, and out back where we have a small shooting range too. You won't have access to the weapons here, we have an arsenal that we'll be training you with and that's that. But that's all small stuff. Here's what you really need to know," Dean leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and stare straight at her. "Sam and I were raised to follow orders and do what needs to be done. We can't do our job with you getting in our way or making any stupid mistakes. We know you gotta mouth on ya, but believe you me sweetheart," Dean continued through the not so subtle glower Emily threw his way, "we will be correcting anything we see fit. I think you can guess how we deal with mistakes in this family, and right now you can consider yourself one of us. Which means mouthing off, sneaking around, lying, not following orders, and just generally pissing me off, is all gonna result in one thing. You," he pointed to her as if she were stupid and Emily clenched her fists tightly to avoid leaping forward to punch him, "over a knee, getting your cute little butt blistered."
The smug little bastards didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed by what Dean was saying, and Emily couldn't hold it in. "I'm not a child. I'm not stupid," she hissed at him, her feet coming down to meet the floor so she could match Dean's pose, only Emily's involved her hands on the arms of the chair, gripping it tightly to keep herself grounded as she spoke, "no one touches me. You don't touch me. He doesn't touch me," she jerked her head to Sam, "nobody touches me. Nobody spanks me," she spat the word as if it were dirty, which in her mind, it was, "and you can lose any notion of me just rolling over and becoming some sort of perverted sex slave on your whims."
Dean laughed, short and gruff, and even Sam smiled then, a little more than impressed with her spunk. "Oh sweetheart, we are way past that, wouldn't you say? Look, you don't like it? Tough shit. You're under our protection now and that means you follow our orders. This is how we deal with it, this is what happens, you don't want your ass handed to you? Don't mess up. Don't talk back. Lose the attitude. You've been warned and it's the only one you'll be getting, capiche?"
They stared each other down, Emily's chest heaving as if she'd just run a very intense mile, Sam still smiling beside him. She gave no indication that she would agree verbally, but Dean seemed satisfied with her lack of argument and stood up. "Good. Thank jesus. We can all go to bed." He clapped his hands and did a sarcastic little cheerleading move, picking up his beer bottle from the table beside him, and then he left the room with a short wave behind him. Sam was nicer, waiting for Emily to unfurl from her anger, offering a hand to help her up.
"Look, it won't be all that bad," he lead her out of the living room, Emily following woodenly a step behind. "Dean's trying to keep you safe. We live by a different code of Hunter than your dad did. I know it seems ridiculous and childish, but you don't have the training we did, just don't piss him off and you'll be okay." He paused at her door and let her go in past him. "Goodnight kid."
But Emily didn't answer, just slammed the door behind her and let her thoughts take over.